


Look at me

by holmesiironman



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence - No Hydra Takeover, F/M, bit of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-25 01:45:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2604029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holmesiironman/pseuds/holmesiironman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the future<br/>No Hydra because I cannot deal with that<br/>Slight Fitzsimmons and Huntingbird bc how can you not<br/>Mainly SkyeWard</p><p>They have a mini-break up, Skye's heartbroken and Ward is too. They go on a mission and face their worst fears- losing one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters will be updated once every 2 days bc it's not that long!  
> Hope you enjoy, bare with me for any brief parts or mistakes, a lot of this was written in the early hours!  
> As always, happy reading :)

It feels so good to love someone so much it hurts. Ward and Skye know that of all people. They’d been dating for two years now. After she had become an agent, they had continued training together, gradually becoming a deadly two-agent team. (Barton and Romanov would be proud.) She was good, he had to admit. She had really began to commit herself after the “incident” in Italy and she was a good shot when she put in the effort. And he really wanted her to put the effort in now more than ever. If anything happened to her, he's 137% sure that he'd straight up lose his mind.

However, because she was a hacker, it wasn't often she was in the field, usually staying behind the front line (a very good distance behind the line thanks to a paranoid Phil). So usually, he didn't worry about her THAT much. 

But it was moments like this that he loathed. Having just been given a mission, they'd received the news that Skye would be going up-front with himself, Trip, Lance and Bobbi to distract and potentially get-rid of the security at the place they were about to raid in order for Fitzsimmons to safely go ahead with Coulson and May to disarm this new super-crazy-alien-gizmo. Skye herself was pleased with the news, always wanting to prove herself to the team that worried over her almost obsessively- show them that she could hold her own! To be fair, they already knew that, it's just she was barely experienced and... well... they'd done their best to shield Fitzsimmons and Skye from the really messed up shit that they sometimes dealt with. Not that they could ever know that. Somehow everyone knew that the knowledge that they were being kept from certain details because they were too “innocent” would not sit well with the trio. 

These guys they were dealing with were brutal, favouring the “torture and kill” method over the “capture and interrogate” method. Ward wasn't exactly keen to have the woman he loved beside him when they went up against them. Especially as she would prove to be a distraction, with him trying to protect her instead of completing the mission. It had happened before, and it was something he was trying to work on, but- like the rest of the men in the team- he was protective in nature. The problem was, every time he tried to plead with her, tell her it was too dangerous she'd refuse. Arguing that he was in just as much danger as her so if he was going she was. He would counter that it wasn't the same, to which she would exclaim “why?Is your life worse less than mine?! If you died out there, I'd die too!”. He would then kiss her senseless and whisper “I love you's” into her neck whilst she eagerly returned them. The same argument had come to pass so many times that Lance had taken it upon himself to mouth along with the words like it was his favourite play. This always earned him a smack from his girlfriend. Unfortunately for him, Bobbi had a good swing.

This time was no different, however instead of the scripted 'happy ending', they parted badly; with Ward telling her that if she was going in it was on her own head and that he was sick of hurting over her and her not giving a shit. He'd stormed out of their bunk, scowling at Lance before stalking to the gym, Trip hot on his heels with a cold beer in hand. Lance and Fitz followed them silently after giving concerned glances to their other halves. Watching them go, Simmons and Bobbie shared a troubled look before entering the bunk, where they found Skye perching on the bed, tears running down her face leaving ugly streaks of mascara.

Simmons immediately went into mother-mode, sending Bobbi to get some wipes and a bottle of something from the bar (but nothing too strong! We have a mission, remember?!). She then turned her attention to a pale Skye, who was strangely silent, staring into the empty space behind Simmon's shoulder. Moving slowly, so as not to startle her, she moved from her position in the doorway to sit next to her best friend on the single bed. She then tentatively wrapped an arm around her, and pulled her into a one-sided hug until Skye responded. Suddenly coming to life, she flung her arms around Simmons and sobbed into her shoulder, turning the scientists baby-blue blouse a messy black just to the right of the collar. Oops. 

When Bobbi returned mintues later, she found them like this, sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed, Skye's face buried into Simmon's shoulder whilst she rubbed her back soothingly, whispering “it will be alright's” into the broken-hearted girls' ear. When Simmon's saw her standing in the doorway, she gestured for her to close the door and bring forward the 'equipment' Sighing sadly, Bobbi did as she was asked, setting the wipes next to Simmons before uncapping the Vodka and taking a swig. She welcomed the burn that hit the back of her throat like an old friend... because well it was. It did kinda help though. And they needed all the help they could get. Consoling Skye well enough to have her in “mission condition” as Lance called it was a mission in itself. Raising her eyebrows in a question to Simmons and receiving an affirmative nod, she took a deep breath and began her speech.

\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\

Meanwhile, downstairs, the boys were having no luck with Ward either. As soon as he had walked away from Skye, he had regretted it, wanting nothing more than to wipe away her tears and hold her. It hurt him even more to know that he was the one who had broken her. So there was only one place he was heading for- the punching bag. He hadn't even finished descending the stairs before he heard Trip's light-hearted voice telling him that everything would be okay before reeling off an anecdote about this one girl he dated who was a total hottie and they got into a fight like this before he moved away but everything had worked out fine in the end! The thing was, nothing would ever be okay if he didn't have Skye, but he didn't try to explain that to his friend, instead he finished wrapping his hands and began what could only be described as an “intense session”. 

Minutes later when he stopped to catch his breath, he noticed that a very concerned looking Fitz and an amused looking Lance had entered the room and had moved to sit beside Trip in the lab, watching him like a lab rat.  
“What?” he asked, irritated by their interest in his rare show of emotions.  
“Nothing!”  
“Who, me?”  
“What?”  
Came the overlapping reply from the 3 agents.  
“Well actually-” that was Fitz “we were wondering... is everything okay? You know like I know it's none of or business or anything and you don't have to tell us I mean we ARE friends and everything but we're only here if you need us but if it's just between you and Skye then by all means carry on! Anyway we were just-” A loud groan came from Trip as he threw his head into his hands. Lance feigned falling off to sleep. Frowning, Fitz began to explain himself to the two offending parties whilst Ward turned to face the punching bag once more. It was going to be a long day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a bit short and not very Skywardy but it's getting there!  
> Bit of team-bonding (if you can call it that) for you losers ;)  
> Feel free to R&R  
> Happy reading :)

Looking in the rear-view mirror, May rolled her eyes heavily before shooting a look at Phil who sat comfortably in the passenger seat. He just shrugged his shoulders and went back to his crossword on antiques. Naturally. He loved Skye and Ward but he was not getting in the middle of that bat-shit crazy. May cast another look in the mirror before returning her eyes to the road, silently cursing herself for putting them both in such a small space for an hour. It was like a high-school gym hall in there! On one bench sat Bobbi and Jemma, with Skye mushed between them. Jemma had her arm protectively around Skye's shoulders and kept shooting Ward what could only be described as 'bitch faces'. Bobbi, however, was too busy eyeing up her boyfriend from across the van to pay much interest. Skye herself was quiet, withdrawn and completely not Skye. There were no quips or sarcastic comments. Which, strangely enough, left the short bus eerily quiet. Opposite the girls sat the boys, Trip and Fitz on one end, occasionally murmuring something about the night-night guns to each other but never in more than a hushed whisper to break the silence. Then there was Ward and Lance was sat on the end nearest the doors opposite Bobbi. The sexual tension between the two of them almost masked the awkward tension between Skye and Ward. Almost. 

The silence in the van had become so loud and oppressing that when May suddenly turned on the radio, the whole party in the back jumped a mile. Only Coulson remained motionless, only letting out a chuckle in correlation to May's smirk. So they were forced to listen to a crackling news channel... until Fitz decided he could do better. Of course Jemma agreed and they started working out ways to fix it when Trip told them it was “only a fucking radio” to which Fitz effectively exploded, saying that that was an insult to his profession which had Lance snorting out through his nose. That alone earned him a glare from Fitzsimmons and another slap on the arm from his girlfriend.  
“OW!” he exclaimed, “What was that for!”  
“You were disrespecting his profession-”  
“Yeah you were disrespecting my profession!”  
“Ohhh Fitz I'm sure you didn't mean it did you Lance?”  
“Oh hey I did fuck all it was Trip that started it!”  
“Me?! Don't drag me back into this it's not my fault you're whipped!”  
It was then the short bus descended into chaos. Insults were thrown left right and centre, even Coulson's attempt to put out the fire failed miserably; his voice being drowned out by the racket. Throughout it all, Ward and Skye remain quiet, occasionally having to avoid a flailing arm or two, but otherwise they sat stationary, avoiding each others gaze. A couple of minutes into the argument and Phil was unbuckling his seatbelt and turning around to stop the fighting like a parent does for young children. This distracted May who had to turn around in her seat to try and pull Coulson back to sit in his own for safety reasons, causing them to have to swerve last minute to avoid an on-coming truck.

The volume in the van was increasing as people fought to make themselves heard. Even more so now they'd almost crashed on the way to a level 5 mission!  
“ENOUGH!”  
“SHUT THE FUCK UP GUYS!”  
Ward looked at Skye. Skye looked at Ward. She scowled and looked away.  
“I said it first.” she muttered under her breath.  
Ward took a deep breath to suppress his rising anger and surveyed the van, giving everyone a cold stare until they were properly sat back in their seats and were completely silent.  
“Thank you.” He said simply, before readjusting his seat belt and closing his eyes. Unfortunately, this meant that he couldn't see the flash of love in Skye's eyes as she glanced at his slumped form. She was still mad but damn it was hard to be mad at someone who had a body like a fucking Greek God!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Huntingbird chapter because why ever not  
> Little violence in this one guys so beware  
> I am teasing you with the SkyeWard stuff ik I am sorry  
> Happy reading :)

1 hour and 48 minutes later:

“Fuck!”   
“I can sight 8 armed coming down east wing.”  
“Need a little help on 3rd floor!”  
“Hurry up Fitzsimmons!” May chastised them. She was stood in the doorway, icer in hand, lightly bouncing from foot to foot in anticipation. With the rest of the team needing help on the lower floors taking out the multiplying guards, it was decided Phil would be the one to go assist them- reasoning that the key part of the mission was to de-arm the potential weapon and take it back to the lab for examination, therefore keeping Fitzsimmons safe was priority. Obviously the Calvary was best at keeping them safe. Not that she agreed.  
The coms were going wild though, with curses of pain and distress calls being frequent, it was frustrating for May to not be in the action, but instead watching (more like listening) from the sidelines. She was the Calvary for Christ sakes! It was her speciality. Speaking of specialities, Fitzsimmons were rapid-firing science talk to one another in a way that was so fast and complex they might as well have been speaking Gaelic for May. Shrugging it off, she turned her full attention to the empty corridor ahead of her, and the audio of the mess below.

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East Wing:

“Son of a bitch!” Exclaimed Lance loudly, recoiling in pain from the whip the attacker was swirling around himself to keep the agent at bay. It had struck him across the top of his thigh, and it stung like a bitch. More and more guards were filing through the door at the far end of the bleak corridor he was trying to hold down with Bobbi and this guy was really beginning to piss him off. Usually he had no problems with making light out of the situation, but this 6ft hunk of tattoos in front of him was really starting to boil his blood. 

Hearing Bobbi curse in pain behind him and fall to the floor, he instinctively reached out for her, holding his hand behind his back. After dodging another whip, he felt a smaller, clammy hand grab onto his as she pulled herself off the ground. Tugging her to stand by his side, they were once again blocking the way to the junction of corridors, where Trip and Coulson were trying their best to fend off guards coming from the south side and Skye and Ward were securing the West Wing. Glancing her way, Lance saw she was in a pretty bad way. Her face was bruising badly and she was clutching her hand to her waist, where he could see a neat rip in her top (most probably from a knife). 

He felt his heartbeat quicken at the sight of her in pain. 

A sharp pain flashed through his upper arm as the whip came cracking down once more.   
I think it's safe to say that, at that moment, Lance Hunter saw red.   
A lot of red.

Grabbing the whip mid-strike, he stamped down hard on the man's foot, which caused him to buckled over. Taking advantage of the attackers current position, Lance brought a knee up to the guys face whilst consecutively pulling harshly on the whip he still grasped in his hand. Hunk of tattoos went crashing forward, finally put out by Bobbi's boot to his face.

Looking up, Lance smirked at his girl when he saw she had a wry smile on her face.  
“I was handling that.” He said, matter-of-factly.  
“So I saw.” Came the sarcastic reply  
“Don't play the hero. It really doesn't suit you.”  
“What else have I to play? You have the role of damsel in distress covered.” He didn't even have to look at her to know that she was smiling profusely. He could hear it in her voice.   
They were facing each other now, so she could see the opening and closing of his mouth as he tried to think of a good come-back.  
“What's the matter Hunter? Cat got your tongue.” Bringing her foot out and upwards, she kicked the approaching attacker in the balls, before striking out with her fist in a 90 degree swing, knocking him to the floor.   
“H a h a. Very funny. You know, I think you're right I mean... I am more feminine than you. It makes me more approachable. Like the time in 99 in that bar in Chicago at New Years-” Spinning 45 degrees, he brought his fist crashing into the face of another guard knocking him out cold. 

“Don't you dare Hunter-” Locking her arm out straight at shoulder level, she swung it round until it collided with the throat of the attacker she was currently working on, slamming him into the wall before sinking to the floor. She never once took her eyes off her boyfriend though as she was currently trying to death stare him into submission. 

“Oh that's right-” he grunted in pain when he took a blow to the stomach. Grabbing onto the woman's kevlar, he brought his forehead crashing against her own. Watching her eyes roll to the back of her head, he shoved her back into the man behind her, causing him to stumble which bought him some time to turn back to Bobbi, a wry smile now on his face. 

“He asked ME out. And sorry... who thought he was asking them out? I can't quite recall.” Now he was grinning like a Cheshire cat and my God she'd never wanted to both slap a man and kiss a man more in her entire life. It was at moments like this when she fell in love with him again. Sure the sex was mind-blowing and they had a lot in common and there was no doubt in her mind that he was the man for her... But when the fought together, and when the f o u g h t together, she knew he was the ONLY man for her. 

“Bobbi? Love, is everything okay?” Side-stepping a copper pipe, he buried his fist in the next attackers gut, then elbowed him in the back of the head when he doubled over, never once taking his eyes off Bobbi.  
She couldn't help the crazy grin that spread across her face, threatening to split it in two as she nodded her head rapidly. Watching him dispose easily of the next guy, she took the brief respite to grab the front of his worn leather jacket, before crashing his lips to her own so hard that she slammed her body against the wall behind her. 

He responded instantly, groaning against her lips, hands gripping under her thighs and hoisting her up so their torso's were pressed tightly together. She gripped onto his face with both hands, denying him any chance of release. 

Swirling in the pit of her stomach, she felt it ignite her every vein, her every cell. Every single ounce of her entire being, past and present in all and every universe loved this man before her so much it hurt and it was the best thing that had ever happened to her. 

She knew by the way he touched her, called her name, hugged her from behind, brought her a coffee in the morning, that he felt the same. When he sparred with her, cooked with her, read to her, washed her hair. He'd stay up with her when the nightmares took over. He'd always get her a gift for Christmas and her birthday, he'd wash her dishes, help her with the laundry, let her pick her side of the bed, carry her bags, remind her to always bring extra ammo (she always seemed to forget). And above all, he always, always had her back. 

And she had his.

It was them against the world. Always and forever and the rest. 

Breaking the kiss, she looking into his eyes, causing him to lose his little remaining breath once again.   
“I. Love. You” she whispered.  
Smiling that goofy smile that could bring civilizations to their knees, he replied honestly, like she always knew he would.  
“I love you too. So, so, so much.”

“Are we done with this because if there's much more of that to come we may just have an encore of my breakfast.” Trips' amused voice sounded from the corridor ahead of them, causing them to smile and break apart. Taking her hand in his, Lance strode carefully down the corridor towards Trip and Coulson, Bobbi in-tow, taking care not to step on any of the bodies that littered the floor. Any remaining attackers had been taken out by Coulsons' and Trips' icers whilst they were having a moment, so it seemed.

“Guys. We have a problem.” That was May through the coms. Sharing a concerned look, the four of them stood in the junction of the four hallways they were defending. Having just come from the East Wing, Bobbi and Lance knew that the South Wing was where Trip and Coulson where holding ground, and also that the North side led to the stairs which took you directly into the path of May and Fitzsimmons... Which left the West Wing... where Skye and Ward were meant to be stood right now. However, aside from a dozen bodies all wearing the same uniform that scattered the ground eerily, the pair were no-where to be seen. Doing a three-point-turn to look down all four corridors once again, Coulson grit his teeth before bringing his hand up to his ear.

“Yeah, we're beginning to get that.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THIS IS SO LATE OMG  
> but there's been a lot of stuff with the things and i just wow so yeah  
> anyways  
> hope this wasn't too wierd... again early hours!  
> More Skyeward to come  
> Happy reading :)

PRE-MISSION  
“Bobbi, you're with Lance, as always.”  
“Hells yeah!” grinned Lance, receiving a high-five from a pleased looking Bobbi.  
“Trip, you're on your own until further instruction.”  
“Guess I'm just destined to be forever alone.” That earned a snigger from the entirety of the van who'd been sat in palpable silence since Ward and Skye erupted.   
“Myself, May and Fitzsimmons will be heading straight for the device which is top priority-”  
“WOAH WOAH WOAH-” Skye interrupted, wide-eyed. Ward simply groaned and put his head in his hands.   
“Yes Skye, you're with Ward. I'm sorry your having a rough patch and everything but he's the only one I know that will really keep you safe.” Holding his finger up in the rear view mirror, Coulson met Skye's eyes, silently willing her to bite back the protest and go with it.   
Ward was sat quietly, going over the situation in his mind like he had been trained to do. For him, the only thing worse than being on a sort-of break with the woman he loved and knowing that she was in danger was being the one to protect her. He'd die for her any day- no doubt about it- but the rules of SHIELD stated that the only way that they could both work and be in a relationship is if the mission came first. Ward, not wanting to lose her by being transferred, tried his best to make sure he was concentrating on the mission and not her. However, he knew- despite having the highest mark for espionage since Romanov- that fighting side-by-side with Skye (whether they were together or not) would completely change everything.

This day was just getting worse and worse. 

West Wing:

“Fuck!” Ward mumbled as a knife came tumbling in the air towards him, causing him to slam into the wall. Leaning all his weight against it, he took the brief second of respite to assess the situation. He was injured. A knife wound approximately 4cm deep ached uncomfortably in his shoulder, he had multiple contusions on his face and, placing a blood-coated hand on his ribs to check, he had at least 3 broken ribs. He was in pain, but he'd been through worse and none of it was fatal. Reassured that he was in reasonably good condition, he turned his attention towards a very tired looking Skye. 

She was in a 1 vs 2 combat with two of the attackers a little ahead of his current position, therefore he couldn't see her face. However, by the way her movements were slowing, becoming sloppy and miscalculated, he knew that she was tired and, by the way she shuffled her feet occasionally when unnecessary, that she was injured in some way. He could tell when she wasn't herself in his sleep, so deducing this was childs-play. Wincing as he watched her take a punch to the gut, he scanned the corridor once more to see at least half a dozen more guards sweep round the corner towards him.

Somewhere in the corridors behind him, he heard the sound of combat distantly. 

All this caused him to make the heady decision to abandon ship. 

He had to get her out of here, mission be damned. 

Knowing Skye as he did, Ward knew she wouldn't take lightly to the idea of abandoning their friends to save themselves. Therefore he made the decision to... well... not suggest the idea. Instead, he simply strode over to where she was batting off another kevlar with a right hook. Taking the man by the throat, Ward sharply slammed him into the floor, using his lunging position to sweep his leg round and wipe out the next attacker, rendering him unconscious as his head hit the floor. Standing promptly, he cast a brief glance to the corridor in front of them, planning their escape root in his head. They couldn't go towards the attackers and out to the van, there was simply too many of them for even him to handle. No. They'd have to head up to the top of the building and hope to lose them as they went.   
Feeling a light hand on his arm, he looking down at the familiar face smiling softly up at him.  
“We have to keep going, don't give up now.” Skye put on a 'Ward' voice while she parroted one of his famous phrases from their training sessions. Laughing gently at her own joke, she stopped when she felt him more then saw him giving her one of those intense looks that burned through every façade she feebly tried to put up in front of him. Her grin faded and she allowed her true emotions to show, knowing that he could see them regardless. If Ward knew how Skye would try put her walls up, he was an expert at tearing them down. Reaching out with a slightly shaking hand, he cupped her cheek, relaxing as she leaning in slightly, closing her eyes and sighing contently. 

It didn't matter to Skye that they were currently in the middle of an important mission with about 8 kevlars advancing towards them, or that they were both injured, or that they could die any minute, or that they were away from home... because Ward was her home. Skye was Ward's life, and he was hers. They were both a little messed up and practically polar opposites, but they completed each other. She was everything he was not: light-hearted, resilient and compassionate whilst he was everything she needed: safety, warmth and understanding. They made each other who they were meant be. So no, it didn't matter to Skye that if they didn't move from this position in the next 45 seconds they'd be dead, because she'd missed his touch, even if it had only been for 6 hours. 

It didn't matter in the end though. 

Ward made the decision for her. 

Tossing her over his shoulder in a firemen’s lift, he ignored her questions as he turned and began to walk towards the junction behind their original position. The questions soon turned into screams and small-fist pounding into the sculpted muscles of his back when he began his steady jog towards the junction, taking the turn into the North Wing and beginning the ascent up the many slate grey stairs. He didn't look back once. He didn't even stop. He just bit back the sob that he felt rising in his throat at the sound of her distress. He suppressed the dull ache that had set across his entire being. He breathed through the tiredness of his lungs. Because it was for her.  
Everything he was doing was for her.  
Skye.  
To keep her safe.  
Because she couldn't die.   
He wouldn't allow it.  
The thought of her getting out of here alive was almost enough to desiccate the feeling of crippling sadness that enveloped his insides.   
If she didn't hate him because of what he'd said before, she'd definitely hate him now.  
But if she was alive, it was worth it.  
Right?  
God he hoped so.  
Because she couldn't die.  
He wouldn't allow it.  
Even though that's what people do.  
Die.  
But not her.  
Not yet.  
She had to know he loved her first.  
Surely she would understand.  
He did it for her.  
For Skye.


End file.
